By Anouchka Ettedgui, Staff Writer
There’s a lot of noise right now about what America is and what it isn’t. What is broken, what needs to change, what people are angry about. And some of that is real. But I believe something gets lost in all of that.
We don’t talk enough about what this country actually gives. For me, that’s not political. It’s personal.
My parents immigrated to America from Morocco. Starting over in an unfamiliar place that wasn’t familiar, wasn’t easy, and definitely didn’t promise anything. They left behind comfort, language and everything they knew. Nonetheless, they held on to one belief: that if they did things the right way, this country would give them a real chance.
That belief is not small. It’s not naive. It’s brave.
Because starting over in this way means taking risks most people here will never have to take. It means not knowing if things will work out. It means building a life when there is no safety net, no guarantee, no clear path forward. It means trusting a system you’re not even fully part of yet. And still choosing to try.
Everything they built here came from that. Long hours. Sacrifices I didn’t always see when I was younger. Decisions that were never easy but were always about building something bigger than themselves. Not just for them, but for me.
Because of them, I get to live a completely different life. I get to go to school, think about pursuing a degree in law and have goals that feel possible. I get to speak freely, write freely and actually believe that my voice matters. That’s not something I created on my own. That’s something this country made possible, and something my parents fought to access.
That’s why when people talk about America like it’s just another place, it doesn’t sit right with me. Because it’s not. America doesn’t promise you success. It allows you to earn it. That opportunity, that real, tangible opportunity, is something people across the world are still chasing. Not because they’re confused. Not because they don’t understand the flaws. But because even with those flaws, this country offers something rare: a real shot.
Patriotism, to me, comes from that understanding. It’s not blind. It’s not about pretending everything is perfect or ignoring the issues that exist. Of course, there are problems. Every country has them. But patriotism is being able to hold both truths at once, to recognize the flaws while still appreciating the foundation.
Freedom isn’t free. And I don’t just mean that in a military sense, even though that’s part of it. People sacrifice for this country in so many ways. Soldiers who serve. Families who support them. Immigrants who leave everything behind. People who come here and work with the system, even when it’s hard, because they believe it’s worth it.
That’s sacrifice too. And we live in the result of that.
It’s easy to forget about those sacrifices when you grow up here. When this is all you’ve ever known, the system just feels normal. But it’s not normal. The ability to build something from nothing, to move upward, to have your future shaped by your effort, that’s not guaranteed in most places.
Here it is possible. And that word means everything.
That’s what my parents came here for. Not for guarantees. Not for handouts. Just the possibility that their work would matter. That their lives could grow into something bigger, that their children would have the choices they didn’t have.
And now I do.
So when I think about America, I don’t just think about the politics or headlines or debates. I think about the choice my parents made. The one that so many people are still making every single day.
To leave behind everything they know for the chance to start something better here.
That says something. And I think we should pay more attention to that. Because if we only focus on what’s wrong, we start to lose perspective. We start to forget why this country matters in the first place. Not as an idea, but as a reality that people are still willing to risk everything for.
Next year, I’ll have the honor of serving as editor-in-chief of the YU Observer. And sometimes I stop and think about what that really means. My parents came to this country not knowing what their future would look like, and now their daughter gets to lead a publication where her voice, opinion and ideas are actually heard. That opportunity didn’t appear out of nowhere. It came from the sacrifices they made, and from a country that made space for someone like me to grow into that role.
And for families like mine, that’s not just important.
It’s everything.
Photo Caption: Anouchka Ettedgui’s family
Photo Credit: Courtesy of Anouchka Ettedgui